


BlueLady

by Surelybystarlight



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Blue Spirit Zuko (Avatar), Blutara - Freeform, Episode: s03e04 Sokka's Master, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Hurt/Comfort, Partners in Crime, anng sokka and toph are mentioned, but zuko's inner turmoil makes it angsty cause he's like that apparently, magic healing water, magic healing water fixes it, painted lady (Avatar), the tags spoil it, they kiss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27223519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Surelybystarlight/pseuds/Surelybystarlight
Summary: Restless while Sokka is away studying with Piandao, Katara dons the mantel of The Painted Lady once again. Unbeknownst to her, she is not the only one stalking these streets from behind a mask tonight.This is a continuation of the bluelady au from my zutara month 2020 fic.Will be posting chapters once a week-ish
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 52





	1. As the Painted Lady, she rises.

**Author's Note:**

> If you read the bluelady chapters from my zutara month I recommend reading this from the beginning, i reworked those chapters and added important bits in. (seriously just this first chapter is a 1000 words longer)  
> If you really have to you can skip to chapter 3 which picks up where zutara month let's off.

Lying awake in her bed roll, the sounds of the night drift to Katara. To her side, Aang's breathing is a faint whisper, nearly drowned out by the low rumble of Appa, whom he is cuddled on top of. She watches him affectionately, like a mother watching their child sleep. He looks so small and peaceful, clinging to the only other survivor of his time. It’s moments like this where it’s hard to imagine how the fate of the world could rest on the shoulders of a child. When an especially loud rumbling snore breaks her out of her reverie she shoots an equally affectionate glare across the campfire, (now burned low to nothing but embers), to its source, mercifully muffled by a stone tent. How someone so small is able to produce such a loud noise baffles her, though it is no surprise since the little earthbender manages to be even louder awake.

These sounds are not what keeps her up so late into the night, for there is one sound missing- the wheezing snore that she had become so accustomed to back when she was a child curled up under furs to ward off the cold in their shared igloo. She fell asleep to it every night without fail for as long as she can remember. Tonight, however, Sokka sleeps at master Piandao’s estate as his apprentice. They had all agreed this very morning that training under a master was just what he needed. As is usually the case for their unusually lucky gang, they serendipitously stumbled across a master swordsman willing to take him on, later that same day. She knows he’s safe there, but now, as she tries to sleep without the sound of her brother breathing for one of the few rare times in her life, she can’t help but feel restless.

Deciding that it is futile to try to sleep any longer, she quickly crawls out of her bedroll, careful not to wake her companions, and digs through her bag for supplies. Taking the bundle a little ways away to the river they camped near, she strips out of her fire nation travel clothes and dons a red robe several sizes too big - cinched around the waist with a length of coarse rope, and a wide-brimmed straw hat adorned with a sheer shift to make a veil. To complete the look, she kneels by the river bank, dipping her fingers into the damp clay and paints red swirls traveling up her arms and across her chest, ending in streaks on her face. As the Painted Lady, she rises and stalks off to the town of Shu Jing.

~

Zuko, lost without uncle Iroh’s guidance and angrier then ever, falls back on the one thing in his travels that made him feel like the good guy: masquerading as the Blue Spirit. His assumed identity had started as a way to gather information, and then to simply gather supplies, regardless of the moral implications. In Ba Sing Se, when he took the mantle up again, it had been to satisfy an equally selfish need to blow off steam and keep in fighting shape. Every night after closing the tea shop and uncle had gone to bed he’d slip out of his bedroom window and stalk through the streets of the lower ring, keeping to the shadows as he searched for a fight. His standard prey was local thugs and unruly drunks. Though he didn’t really care who they were, as long as they could put up a good fight. He never killed or maimed, he was not in it for the blood, just incapacitated his victims and moved on. This was until one night, when he was on the prowl he heard a scream. Following the source of the noise he found a woman surrounded by four men, pawing at her and making crude threats. One of the men had her arms pinned behind her back and held a knife to her throat. The others were rifling through her clothes, digging through her pockets and letting their hands linger. As he came upon this scene, Zuko knew he’d found his prey for the night.

As he slips out of the shadows, he starts with a swift strike to the back of the head of the man holding the woman captive. He drops like a rock, knocked unconscious, eliciting a startled yelp from the woman. For a moment everyone freezes, surprised by the arrival of what appears to be a spirit grinning back at them. Zuko takes this opportunity to step around the woman, placing himself between her and the muggers. His movement breaks the spell and the men all attack. Using his dual swords more for leverage than to cut, when one man tries to stab him he traps their limb with the flat of one blade, using their momentum to throw them, while blocking a strike with the other. Just as he finishes dispatching the last of the remaining three, he's hit hard in the back of the head by a flying rock. He turns to find that the earth bender is none other than the first mugger he had caught by surprise. Dazed by what is undoubtedly a concussion, he is outmatched, as it is hard to block stone with a sword. Stuck without an escape, Zuko takes several hits to the stomach and ribs as he's slowly backed into a corner. Dazed and desperate, he falls upon his last resort. With a sweeping kick, he sends out a short curved wall of fire at the feet of the earth bender, breaking his stance and giving Zuko the opportunity he needed. He grabs the man and throws him into a wall, this time ensuring that he won’t be getting back up for a while.

He turns to melt back into the shadows when a petite trembling hand strikes out and encircles his wrist. Adrenaline pumping through his veins Zuko freezes, his instincts tell him to fight - the woman has seen him fire-bend and he needs to leave before the Dai Lee show up, but he doesn’t want to hurt her, since she has already had a hard night. He slowly turns to face her, his distress hidden underneath his mask. He expected to see fear or anger or even disgust- but instead, her expression is unreadable as she keeps her tight grip on his wrist, staring into the dark eyes of his mask grinning back at her. They stay frozen like that for a long moment as Zuko waits for the inevitable rejection... until her eyes soften along with her grip into a look of gratitude. A quiet “Thank you” whispered past her lips and then the Blue Spirit is gone, already slipping from one shadow to the next. From that night on, whenever Zuko prowled the streets as the Blue Spirit looking for trouble, he would look for thieves and abusers - those harming the innocent. He was chasing that feeling he got when he saw gratitude in the eyes of those he protected.

A little while after returning to the fire nation, Zuko told his father he wanted to see the nation he had missed for three long years, to travel amongst his people. In truth, he had told his father's advisor, it was impossible to get a moment with the Fire Lord, only having spoken to him once since he was back. Despite telling Zuko he was proud of him for something he hadn’t even done it seemed his father was too busy to allocate time to his firstborn son who had been gone for so long. Zuko tried to tell himself that he wasn’t bothered by this, really he was more relieved. It was hard being in the same room as his father without thinking of that fateful day he was banished. He knows his father had done it for his own good (he’s certain of it, he reasures himself) but there are moments when he looks at his father where he can still smell the distinctive smoke.

This was how he found himself in a small town on an island just at the edge of the fire nation. One he was familiar with when he was sent here by his uncle (after his mother disappeared) to train in the way of the sword under a sword master who lived on this island. He has no plans to visit his old master, not wanting to be reminded of a time when he still had his uncle’s trust and support. During the day he travels the Fire Nation in a palanquin surrounded by a royal entourage. At night he slips away from his guards and tries to protect his people as the blue spirit. Desperately trying to recreate the feeling he felt in Ba Sing Se from the last time he knew he was doing the right thing.

He slinks through the shadows looking for anything amiss, then spots a ghostly figure clad in red, enveloped by her own personal cloud of fog. He can make out just enough of their figure through the oversized robe tied off with a length of coarse rope to see that it's a woman. Though he can’t catch more than a glimpse of red swirls past the wide brimmed hat. He tails her to the local military outpost and watches as the woman surrounded by mist sneaks into the compound. Quiet as a shadow he slips in after her, following her as she is clearly in search of something. Though she seems unfamiliar with the layout as she ran into several dead ends and nearly got caught by a patrol twice. Eventually she comes across the store room. Evidently having found her goal, she quickly gets to work filling several bags full of dried food, cloths, bedrolls, and medicine; significantly more than enough for one person. When he was young and innocent, Zuko would have found stealing from the military an executable offense (which by law it is), but now after everything he’s seen and done, he doesn't find it enough to warrant attacking them. He remembers what it’s like to be truly hungry and cold. Regardless, with his interest peaked, he decided to follow them longer, curious how this night will play out.

He cringes as the woman is nearly caught again on her way out. Whoever she is, she clearly has not been trained in stealth, succeeding by no small amount of luck. He sticks to the rooftops once they clear the compound, and hurries after her as she makes a bee-line to the worst part of town. He watches in awe when, instead of returning to her base, she stops before a dilapidated house and pulls out some of the stolen goods from her sack to leave on the doorstep. House after house she leaves a little food here and a fresh set of clothes there. Never staying long, and always seemingly unaware of her shadow. Zuko is pleasantly surprised to learn he's not the only so-called spirit looking out for his people.

~

Katara stoops down next to an old man sleeping on the side of the street. He was so still and quiet she had almost missed him. Careful to keep her shroud of mist swirling around herself, she digs through her bag of contraband when he starts a coughing fit so strong, it wracks his entire body. Quickly she drops the bag and places a hand on the man's chest, finding what she was afraid of, fluid pooling in the man's lungs. She remembers hearing about this from Yugoda; without treatment a man this old would struggle to survive, and living on the streets won’t help his chances either.

Though initially she had scoffed at the idea of learning healing with the other “woman folk” in the northern water tribe, Katara was now glad that Yugoda had managed to help her see the importance of learning the details of healing, such as how the body works and being able to actually identify what’s injured and exactly how. To think she had snapped at Sokka for calling it magic healing water when that was really how she had been treating it. She now knows there so much more to healing than just waving her bending water over it and hoping it will fix itself.

The old man's cough dies down while she's assessing him, never waking from his heavy sleep. His breathing is now coming in short, desperate gulps. She recognizes what he has and knows this next bit won’t be pleasant, but she needs to clear his lungs of the infected fluid so he can breath better. With her hands hovering over his chest she grips the liquid, difficult from being a little thicker than she’s used to bending, and slowly but surely pulls the fluid out of his lungs, as it reaches his throat the man is wracked with coughs even harder than before as he tries to clear his airway. Once she tosses the diseased liquid into the gutter she digs into her bag and pulls out a bed roll. Knowing that removing the fluid from his lungs alone won't keep the infection from coming back, she digs through her bag looking for the medicine she remembers from before. If she had the time and the right tools she might technically be able to filter the infection from his body, but that could take days. And she didn’t have the time to learn something so complex back at the north pole. Yugoda had focused most of her training on battlefield medicine and common illnesses. Nonetheless, fire nation medicine should do the trick.

Just as her fingers brush against the glass of the vial she hears the distinct sound of boots scuffing along cobblestone approaching from afar. She turns slowly to look at the newcomer and spots a brawny man in fire nation military uniform coming down the street. Sitting very still, she holds her breath and sends a silent prayer to Tu that she’ll go unnoticed under the cover of fog, wincing when the old man starts coughing again.

“Hey you there! Come out where I can see you!” calls an authoritative voice from half a block away. Katara bolts, running down the nearest alley and using the last of her bending water to freeze a thin sheet of ice at the entrance.

“Stop!” the soldier yells as he gives chase, blowing on a whistle around his neck. He slips on her patch of ice, but soon gets back up as he’s joined by three other soldiers. “The thief went that way!” his yell echoes down the alley too Katara. She doesn't risk a glance back as she keeps running until she finds herself stuck at a dead end with a wall too tall for her to climb. She turns to find her only exit blocked by armed soldiers advancing on her. She looks around desperately for anything to bend, cursing herself for being so careless with her only defense.

“You match the description of someone seen sneaking away from the military base after ransacking the storeroom. Stealing from the fire nation is an executable offense.” The soldier lights his fists full of flames and takes a step closer.

Cursing her luck running out, she sends a prayer for the old man to Yue this time, in hopes that she’ll be more merciful. When suddenly, a figure dressed in all black drops down from the roof above, landing with their back to her, between herself and the soldiers. She gasps in surprise as the being turns slightly to look at her over their shoulder, revealing a blue face contorted in a grin staring blankly back at her.


	2. There's no honor in standing by

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: depictions of violence and descriptions of wounds in this chapter

From his hiding spot on the roof, Zuko watches the woman, painted in red and followed by a personal cloud of fog. She appears to be doing… something, though what exactly he's not quite sure, to aid the homeless man. The sound of heavy measured footsteps draws his attention to a soldier searching the area. This is odd, they don't usually patrol this far from their base. Zuko winces when the old man starts to cough again, 

“Hey! You there! Come out where I can see you.” 

He lets out a quiet huff of irritation when the woman bolts, she could have had a chance of slipping away if she had just kept closer to the shadows and not drawn attention to herself. As he expected, the soldier gives chase; the woman's cover has been blown. What a shame, he was curious to learn more around her. Though he wasn’t expecting the soldier to slip at the mouth of the alley, it looks like she might have a few tricks of subterfuge hidden up that robe of hers. Zuko decides to continue following her from rooftop to rooftop, hoping their night might not be over just yet. 

He quickly loses hope as he helplessly watches three other guards join the pursuit, as she runs right down a dead end. Looks like she’ll be captured after all. Surely imprisoned for the stolen goods. Disappointed, he had been starting to enjoy himself, even entertaining the idea of joining this so-called spirit in aiding his people. But it looks like tonight he’ll just be a silent witness. He could take on the soldiers if needed, but as the crowned prince, he can’t justify fighting his own nation's military. While he might not always agree with their methods, even he knows he would be crossing a line to help a woman avoid justice.

“You match the description of someone seen sneaking away from the military base after ransacking the storeroom. Stealing from the fire nation is an executable offense.”

Watching an execution on the other hand is a different story. Zuko knows that tone, even if he doesn’t want to admit to himself where he knows it from, the soldier wants nothing more to enact cruelty for cruelties sake. Zuko watches the man light his fists on fire, sees the eager gleam in his eyes. He knows that no justice will be served here tonight, only scars on a defenseless woman. There's no honor in standing by and watching that.

~

As the masked man turns back to the group of four soldiers, moonlight glinting off of his dual swords one in each hand. For a long breath nobody moves, all stunned by the new arrival. The soldier’s fists still wreathed in flames, he growls “now this is my lucky day, looks like we'll be having two executions tonight, first a thief and now The Blue Spirit. I'm sure to get promoted if I bring the fire lord your head.” The other soldiers, taking their cue from the firebender, take a ready stance. Two draw swords, while the third brandishes a spear. 

It dawns on Katara where she recognizes the masked man from. He’s the Blue Spirit who had aided Aang before. Whoever is beneath that mask, she hopes he’s an ally, cause she could really use one right now. Careful not to draw attention to herself, she draws any water she can find from between the cobblestones on the damp street. Alone, she would struggle escaping with what amounts to a puddle, but with the Blue Spirit by her side she has hope, and hope is all she's ever needed. 

Without warning, the firebender breaks the tense stillness, firing a ball of flames the size of his head right at the Blue Spirits mask. He simply flicks it away with a quick movement of one of his swords. The three other soldiers use this momentary distraction to advance, the two swordsmen flanking the spearman. They deliver blows, driving the Blue Spirit back, keeping him on the defensive - parrying their swings from one side and then the next all while desperately avoiding the spear’s thrusts, no moment to strike back. Keeping her movements smooth and subtle, katara makes her own opening, bending a small slick spot right under the heel of the swordsman to the right, causing him to falter and their swing to come up short. The Blue Spirit presses the opening, using it to maneuver behind the soldier and strike their temple with the hilt of one of his swords, knocking them out cold. 

Having maneuvered so that the spearman is between him and the other swordsman he darts in, pinning the spears thrust with his crossed swords and striking the shaft with his heel to break the head off. He keeps the spear pinned with his left sword as he quickly closes the distance and strikes the spearman's temple. The moment the spearman drops out of the way, the final swordsman charges in with a falling cut- which is subsequently deflected, leaving him open. The Blue Spirit draws his arm across the swordsman's throat in a clothesline throw, sending him flying with a hard thud to the ground, where he stays unmoving. 

Now it is down to the firebender from before. Until this point, he had stayed back to watch, observing how the masked vigilante fought. The man springs into action, punching a quick succession of blasts traveling up, each one aimed closer to the mask than the last. The Blue Spirit uses his speed to try to close the distance, deflecting each blast with a sweeping swing of his blades. Katara watches, unable to stop him as the soldier closes in, he sidesteps the Blue Spirit to deliver a sharp punch wreathed in flames to his right side just below the ribs. The Blue Spirit drops to one knee and lets out a growl of pain. The soldier steps forward to deliver the final blow, but Katara catches him off guard as his weight shifts with a water whip wrapped around his ankle, causing him to fall and crack his head on the ground. Immediately Katara rushes to the Blue Spirit’s side where he still kneels, one hand cupping his side. 

“Shit that looks bad, let me see.” she says as she pulls his hands away revealing blistering and charred flesh. “Okay, that's gonna take a little while, I need to get you somewhere safe. Do you think you can stand?”

The Blue Spirit digs the point of one of his swords into the ground leaning on it to heave himself up. Katara slots herself under his other arm, careful of his wound as she helps him up and takes on some of his weight. His breathing becomes fast and shallow as he rises. Katara can feel his heart pounding rapidly through his ribcage. Just before he fully straightens he falls slack, his whole weight leaning on Katara. She swears under her breath as she begins to drag him away.

~

Zuko awakens slowly, his awareness coming back to him in bits and pieces. First he notices the feeling of cold, not the frigid burning of ice, or the numb coldness of shock, but something more soothing like a crisp breeze on a summer day, or a damp compress when you have a fever, lapping against his side. He opens his eyes to the sight of an ethereal blue light illuminating the room and reflecting off of eyes just as blue drawn tight in concentration and a hint of fear. 

Despite her face being streaked in red and dimly lit- as the the only light in the dilapidated little room they are hiding in is from the Moon and this odd ethereal glow, he recognizes her. Zuko would know those piercing blue eyes anywhere. How could he not when they’ve haunted his dreams wearing an expression of utter betrayal. The Avatar's water bender, Katara, is her name. 

He knows what he, as the crowned prince, should do. He should try to capture her, find out if the Avatar’s still alive like he so fears. It's what a good son would do, what his father would want him to do. But he can’t bring himself to do it just yet, can’t bear the thought of seeing hurt contort her face again. Cursing himself for what he knows his father would consider treason and his sister deem a weakness. 

He sucks in a sharp breath when the cool lapping sensation shifts to a new area bringing with it a deep pain. 

“Ahh thank Yue, you’re awake! You haven’t been out long, only a few minutes. I had to drag you into this abandoned building. We were too exposed out there. Couldn’t risk another patrol finding us or those soldiers waking up.”

Zuko lets out a grunt and shifts to pull away from the pain and the ever confusing girl but is stopped when she places a firm soothing hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t move, I know it hurts but I'm not done healing you yet. Looks like he got you good, a flaming punch to the liver leaving severe burns on your right side and some minor liver damage. But don’t worry, I’ve patched you up pretty good.” The last of the pain fades as does the ethereal light “there all done, should only leave a tiny scar.”

She stares at him for a long moment, a softness in her eyes that reminds Zuko of a cave lit by crystals. 

“Thank you, for what you did back there. I don’t think I would have been able to take them on my own, at least not without revealing myself as a water bender. And even then I didn’t have much water to bend. I just... Thank you, I owe you my life.”

She slowly reaches a hand toward his face, and for a moment Zuko closes his eyes to the whisper of a memory, “It has special properties so I’ve been saving it for something important.” He snaps his eyes open in shock when he realizes she had thought he was important. When Katara shifts to lift the mask his hand shoots up and grabs her wrist, stilling her movements.

“Please, I need to make sure you don’t have any other injuries.”

For a long moment they stay frozen like that, neither moving while Katara waits for permission. Zuko just stares at her from behind the mask. Noting the beauty of how the moon's dim light makes her eyes a dusty blue, like the first hit of light just before the sun rises- remembering how anger could turn them into a storm. Feeling the cool soothing touch of her skin against his callus hardened palm. Still sensitive enough to feel how her heart pounds though her pulse point- much like his own, quickened with the last remnants of the fight and a need to burn off the adrenaline. He watches her chest heavy as her breath begins to come quick and heavy, her eyes darkening as her pupils dilate. 

“Please” she breathes out, no louder than a soft whine.

But still loud enough to break the spell he was under. As quick as a shadow, Zuko slips out from where he laid beneath her. He pauses at the windowsill to steal one last glance of her over his shoulder, leaving her with a parting “Thank you,” his voice, thick with emotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think of the fight scene? I spent a while blocking that out with my partner who's a sword instructor. 
> 
> this might also become 5 chapters instead of 4, depends on if anyone likes the fight scene.


	3. She has to know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this time they go looking for each other

Much like the night before, Katara lays awake in her bedroll unable to sleep. This time she’s kept up for much less innocent reasons than missing the light snores of Sokka, though it certainly isn't helping. She stares at the night sky while the image of a grinning blue mask stares back at her. Absentmindedly she rubs her thumb across her inner wrist, still able to feel the ghost of his touch. A nearly scorching heat as his calloused hand gripped her, firm yet gentle, speaking to great strength and control. He was clearly a trained fighter. Moving with such lethal grace, he wielded his dual swords; almost like a dance of death, yet ever careful not to strike a fatal blow. 

Surely, she assures herself, he couldn’t have been that bad of a guy... he refused to kill even when he was outnumbered by people trying to kill him. He had helped Aang when she was too sick to do so herself. Anyone who helps Aang’s got to be one of the good guys, right? But Jet had said he was trying to help, and she couldn’t shake how that had turned out. She needed to be more careful this time.

She has to know, she convinces herself, as she slips out of her bedroll and dons the mantle of the Painted Lady once again. She has to know if he's an ally who can be trusted, for they could use all the help they can get. That's all, she’s just scoping out a potential ally, she tells herself. Though, truthfully, what draws her out is the memory of his voice, so tantalizingly familiar, yet so laced with emotion that she can’t quite place it. She has to know.

Knowing she won’t just stumble across someone who moves like a spirit, she returns to where she last saw him- the little abandoned house on the outskirts of town that she had dragged him into to heal him. 

Although Sokka may take pride in asserting his manliness through hunting, he was the only boy of age in a tribe full of women and children who needed to eat. They couldn’t just wait around for the only “man” of the tribe to stumble across a catch. So everyone old enough learned to hunt, including Katara. Though tracking a pod of whales through the ice sheet is very different from following day old tracks though a city, the principle is still the same. 

Looking at the earth just below the windowsill she saw him jump through the night before she found nothing. How is there nothing? It hadn’t rained since then. She can see her own tracks leaving through the front door. A living, breathing being doesn't just leave no trace. She had thought he might have been a spirit when she first saw him, but spirits don’t burn like that, they’re not made of flesh and blood. Their skin isn’t warm and rough with old calluses only just starting to fade and soften with disuse. No, whoever the Blue Spirit is, they are just as alive as Katara herself. She is certain of it. 

Taking a closer look at the windowsill, she finds the dust is disturbed where he had perched and inside are the marks of his footfalls. So he does leave tracks, which means he didn’t touch the ground when he leapt out of the window. Barring he's an airbender, which leaves its own distinguishable tracks she's become all too familiar with, he wouldn't be able to fly, which must mean he found another way. Taking a step back, she spots a dislodged section of molding that looks fresher than the rest, and a slightly bent gutter. Following his trail she scrambles up the roof, and finds a few shingles astray. Then on the next house over, more broken shingles. So he'd been traveling by rooftop. That explains how she hadn’t noticed him until he appeared out of nowhere the night before. Well if he was using height as a superior advantage so would she. She hid herself away high on the tallest building in the neighborhood and waited to spot her masked man. 

~

What was she doing? After hours of going back and forth with himself Zuko eventually decided he was stupid and weak for letting the waterbender get away. He was going to follow her and learn the truth. Then he’d know, he had to know. If the Avatar is still alive and his father found out... he didn’t want to think of what would happen. He just had to know. It didn’t matter if he would hate himself for hurting her, or disappointing Iroh, as those were both things he was doing anyway. 

So he went back to the little house where he had last seen her in hopes of finding her again. And there she was, looking around the place. After an inelegant scrabble onto the roof she made a bee-line for the tallest building and has just been sitting there for the past hour. What is she waiting for? When he followed her last night she hardly ever stayed still and now she’s just sitting there. It’s like she's waiting for someone. But she couldn’t be waiting for him, could she? How can she stand to wait for so long? 

Letting out a quiet growl of frustration he sneaks up on her perch. Careful not to give his presence away. Only to find that she had fallen asleep. Of course she’s asleep, it's probably way past her usual bedtime. Zuko doubts she’s used to the boredom of reconnaissance. She sits curled up with her knees pulled to her chest and her head hanging low, The brim of her hat covering her face. He watches her breath come in slow even strokes, making the veil on her hat billow with each breath. She looks so vulnerable, it would be so easy to capture her. It wasn’t his original plan, but he’s adaptable, and it’s what’s expected of him. 

Zuko leans forward, careful not to disturb her, when suddenly she stirs. Her head falling to the side, knocking her hat askew revealing her face. Zuko is frozen, she looks so peaceful, so calm. He’d only ever seen her this calm once before, only for a brief moment. He felt like he was intruding on her peace, like it was something private and intimate. She would never let herself be at peace if she knew he was there, and his intrusion makes him feel indecent. Never taking his eyes off of her he took a quick step back. And just his luck, his foot struck a loose shingle, sending it flying, the sharp noise making him cringe. He watched in horror as Katara stirred, stretching out her shoulders and neck. He saw the exact moment she noticed him, freezing and locking eyes with his mask. For a long moment neither of them moved, Zuko held his breath waiting to see what she would do. Watching for the slight shift that would signal her calling her bending water. But it never came. 

She let out a heavy sigh “Took you long enough, I’ve been waiting here so long I must’ve dozed off. It's been...” 

She screws up her face and tilts her chin to the moon, considering its position in the sky. Giving Zuko a view of the long expanses of her neck, how her skin glows under the moon's light, her thick tresses of hair cascade down over her shoulder. He’s never seen her hair unbound before, so wild, so free. She looks- “About an hour by my estimates.” She interrupts his train of thought, turning her blue eyes back on him. 

Zuko breaths out a quick huff of frustration. He can’t let himself get distracted by these thoughts. He needs to stay focused on his plan, so she was waiting for him, which means she wants something from him. That’s good, if she wants something then she trusts him. And that’s a good thing… right? He wants her trust, it’s plagued his dreams ever since that night under the crystal catacombs. Just for a moment she trusted him, believed in him and he ruined that. So having her trust now had to be a good thing, right? Then why did it make him feel so deceitful? He doesn’t own her anything, he’s not indebted to her. His loyalties are to the Fire Nation, his people, always have been. Yet here she is, helping his citizens that his so-called great nation have forgotten. 

Katara stands and brushes off her dress, adjusting her hat just so as she says, “Sooo, I was wondering if you wanted to become partners.” 

Zuko chokes.

“Just for tonight, you know, team up, steal from the military, give to the sick, that kind of thing.”

Silence stretches on as Zuko gapes at her from behind his mask.

“It’s just you’re so talented with your swords. And despite everything you never drew blood. I think we could work well together, you can be the dashing and invisible muscle while I'm the intimidation.”

Dashing, she just called him dashing. Zuko's pretty sure his brain just short circuited.

“You don’t talk much do you?”

Zuko dumbly shakes his head in response. 

“Ok, really committing to the silent type, aren't we. Well do you want to be my partner?”

Zuko takes a deep breath as he steels himself, already knowing it’s a bad idea, but not being able to say no to her. That’s certainly gonna be a problem. With a defeated sigh, he nods yes. 

“Really!” She squeals and bounces on the balls of her feet in excitement in a way he finds so endearing. He’s so screwed.

~

“So I already have a plan, It’s simple really.” Katara's voice trembles with a small amount of anxiety. Something about this Blue Spirit puts her on edge. She doesn’t know if it’s his reluctance to talk or the fact that it feels like he’s always watching her from beneath that mask. Either way, he makes her heart flutter in her chest and her hair stand on end.

When her silence stretches on for a moment too long, he nods his mask slightly as he hums a reply. Seeming to say ‘go on’.

Katara swallows hard before she continues, not used to feeling so off-balance. “I did some reconnaissance earlier today. I was walking around town, checking in on the families I gave supplies to last night. Of course I had to be secretive about it. I couldn’t just walk up to someone and go” her voice drops as she slips into a mocking tone, “hey there, how do you like those supplies I stole from the Fire Nation military? Anything else I can get for you while I’m at it? Thinking of making another run tonight...”

The Blue Spirit cuts her off by clearing his throat in a way that is unmistakable for anything other than ‘get to the point’.

Katara takes a breath to calm herself, she doesn’t normally ramble around boys, well maybe she got a little flustered around jet, not that the Blue Spirit is a boy or has anything to do with jet, she certainly doesn't think of him that way, she reassures herself. “Right, so I was checking up on some of the families and learned from them that the mayor has been hoarding rice and medicine that was supposed to be distributed to the citizens. Only giving it to those who could afford his ‘additional taxes’. Which is as far as I can tell just a fancy way of saying bribe.”

The Blue Spirit growls at this, it’s a sound from deep in the back of his throat that makes Katara flush as a shiver runs down her spine. He brandishes his twin swords with a flourish and grips the handles so tight it makes the leather creak in a show that seems to say ‘this is a worthy enough cause’. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you havn't noticed the chapter counter ticked up, Im adding in another one like a I said I might. so it might take me a little long to post the next chapter, well see what my life allows for. 
> 
> sorry theres no fight scene in this chapter, Im planing one for the next one.

**Author's Note:**

> oooh cliff hanger!  
> tell me what you think, what worked and what didn't (kindly!)  
> anyone who's read the zutara month, did you notice what i changed?
> 
> (seriously though, I'll accept constructive criticism because I want to grow as a writer and don't have much in the way of betas that will tell me when I suck IRL, but Im not here for the discourse. So no trying to debate me and be kind!)


End file.
